Okay...so, it's time for a new story. I didn't expect to have time to start writing this until after finals. However, I'm sick with one of those horrible evil colds, so...all desire to go out and do anything at all has been sucked out of me. Completely. I just want to sit in my nice comfy room and write. Inbetween bouts of furious nose blowing of course. So yes, a new story. This isn't the sequel to And It All Falls Apart, because like I said...I have Mark Sloane issues. I don't particularly want to write a story involving lots of Mark because of said Mark issues, which are very many...so I will not bore you all by elaborating. So I'm going with this story instead. I rather love the plot. However, I planned it out while laying in bed suffering from the previously mentioned evil cold. Due to my bad sick mood, it's angsty. Very angsty. Some might even say it's angst-tastic. Now I like writing the pain and the separation more than the fluff, so I'm excited. (Not sure what that says about me, but anways...) Just thought I'd give a heads-up. I think it shall get fairly angst-tastic. I'm really starting to like that word...

Anyway, the important stuff. Or, what you need to know to make sense of the story. It's set in early Season 2. Specifically, after episode eight (SadMer w/the Hello Kitty Band-aid) but before episode nine (the Thanksgiving episode). Everything up until that point? It happened. Everything after that point? Not so much. Different things will happen. They have to. Otherwise, my story would be the same as Season 2, and what would be the point of that? We already know and love Season 2. This is different. Same characters, same personalities, blah blah blah...I think you get the picture already. So yes, it's alternaseason 2, and of course it's Mer/Der. I don't really seem to know how to write anything else.

So yes, enough of my rambling. Hopefully you skipped all this and just went to the story. That'd be the sensible thing to do. (Except paragraph two. That kinda explains things.) Still...I'm officially shutting up now. Enjoy!

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"Cause every time I close my eyes,
it's you again, you again
And every time I hear your voice,
I don't know what to do with myself"
You Again -- Kate Havnevik

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Meredith Grey never used to like working nights at the hospital. Overnight call was a thing to be dreaded. It pulled her away from a good night's sleep. It pulled her away from the familiar comfort of her own bed. But most importantly, it pulled her away from the warm arms of Derek Shepherd, offering nothing more in exchange than the dim lonely halls of the hospital at night. Overnight call used to be something to complain about, not something to look forward to. And certainly, it was never meant to be the sort of thing a person would request…just for the hell of it. At least, not something any sane person would request. Meredith Grey was fairly certain that she was still sane, despite the fact that she had done just that. She was also fairly certain her friends thought she was losing it. Izzie had looked up at her, eyes wide with shock, disbelief, and, after a moment, barely concealed delight, when Meredith had suggested (quite casually) that she'd take Izzie's overnight call for her. If Izzie didn't mind, of course. Meredith had rambled out a list of reasons-the extra experience, the interesting cases, the chance to scrub in on late night accidents. None of them were very durable lies, but sleep-deprived interns generally jump at the chance to get some more sleep. And so, Meredith had only had to suffer through a few minutes of incredulous looks before getting her way.

She hadn't even had to use the real reason behind it all to convince Izzie. Meredith liked to avoid mentioning the real reason as much as possible. It tended to fill her friends' eyes with pity, and twist her heart into something that felt stabbed and bruised. Still, the truth was pounding in the back of her head as her feet slapped softly down the white halls of the hospital. It wasn't an easy thing to escape. Meredith figured that it's because it was so simple, so painfully simple, that it just stuck there in her mind…like an annoying song that was impossible to forget.

The truth was, she didn't know how to fall asleep in her own bed anymore. Not without Derek. Waking up and turning to face a cold empty half of a bed that still smelled vaguely of him was a horrible torture. The stark rigid shapes of the beds in the on call rooms were easier to wake up in. They were nothing more than a place to sleep-purely functional and free of memories.

And so Meredith clung to them, and to work, as much as possible. It was something that anchored her, at least a little bit. She felt exhausted all the time, but that was pretty easy to ignore. A hell of a lot easier to ignore than Derek Shepherd and his perfect wife. They seemed to be everywhere, all the time-in the stairwells and the elevators, in surgery, and in line at the cafeteria. If it wasn't one of them, it was the other, and occasionally it was both of them. Together.

But not at two am.

Meredith sighed as she pulled her hair up into a ponytail. Something vaguely approaching a smile stretched its way across her face. The hospital was sleepy at two am. The halls were dim, sort of off-white and filled with long shadows. Occasionally a few nurses would shuffle by to check on patients, or a bleary-eyed resident would stumble over to the coffee machine outside the locker rooms. Sometimes, the elevator would open and an intern from the never sleeping ER would walk off with a transfer patient. There was work to do, but it was a quiet busyness. Aside from major emergencies, attendings had better things to do at two in the morning. (Like sleep together in their shiny silver trailer. Except, Meredith was trying hard not to think about that.) Instead, she tried to focus on the fact that she could ride any elevator and round any corner in the hospital, and not come face to face with either Derek or Addison.

That was…until she did just that.

They seemed to notice each other's presence at exactly the same time, freezing within an instant of each other. Meredith swallowed hard, tightening her grip on the chart she was holding, silently thankful that she hadn't dropped it. She cast a cautious glance towards the nurses' station, where she'd been headed. Of course, at that moment, none of the night nurses were anywhere to be found. They were alone. She and Derek were entirely alone. He was just standing there, staring at her. Even with the long expanse of hall between them, Meredith could make out the dark stubble along the curve of his jawbone. His hair was a mess, the surgical cap he was wearing barely managing to contain the wild black strands. But most of all, Meredith noticed his eyes. It was impossible not to. They were twin pools of exhaustion, so worn out that their normal blue color had been replaced by a shadowy navy. They almost seemed bruised. At yet, they still managed to see straight into her, to her very center. Back when everything had been happy and whole between them, Meredith had told Derek he was looking at her like he'd seen her naked. Now, she wasn't sure what to call it…how to label that intensity…but apparently it was still stopping her in her tracks.

Meredith sighed inwardly; unwilling to scurry back around the corner, but not wanting to head any closer. Still, she didn't seem to have much of a choice. She fixed a determined half smile onto her face, and continued walking towards the nurses' station. Derek instantly followed suit.

"Dr. Shepherd," she mumbled tiredly, slapping her chart down and picking up a pen, as he halted next to her.

"Meredith." His reply was intimate and warm, the total opposite of her greeting. Meredith closed her eyes, not wanting to relax into the deep familiar tones of his voice, not wanting to feel how the sound of her name on his lips loosened the vice around her heart. But it did, and she had to fight the urge to look up into his eyes and smile. She started vigorously checking boxes on her patient's chart; the scrawl of her signature forming almost violently across the page. Derek sighed heavily, setting a file of his own down on the counter and flipping it open. He was watching her carefully for any further sign of recognition, but Meredith kept her eyes trained on the pages in front of her. "You're here late," he ventured at last, lazily picking up a pen and uncapping it.

Meredith gave a half shrug of her shoulders. "On call intern."

"Right…"

They both fell silent then, wordlessly making their way through their paperwork. Meredith tried to ignore him, but the space to her right where Derek was standing felt painfully alive. It was as if there was too much energy in the air, and it was making her whole body tingle. Besides, she argued crossly with herself, he kept looking at her. And she felt every stolen glance as clearly as if he'd laid his hand on her shoulder. Finally, the lines of her patient's chart seemed to blur together into incomprehensible gibberish, and she gave in to the desire to look up from the page. It wasn't the sort of thing she was intending to do…looking up through her eyelashes at her ex-boyfriend. At her married ex-boyfriend. It just sort of happened. She'd been aiming for aloof. For cold. For icy. Ice queen even. Very my-world-still-turns-without-you-Derek. Only she felt all…melty…disgustingly melty. Meredith could practically imagine the frown on Cristina's face, but she just couldn't help it. Even though being near Derek made her heart, quite literally, ache, it also made her feel warm again. And so Meredith was looking at Derek, and smiling. And before she quite realized it, she was speaking as well.

"Why are you still here?" She was hoping her voice would at least maintain some of the iciness…some of the distance. But it didn't. The words formed softly on her lips, and some of the shadows disappeared instantly from Derek's eyes.

"I'd left," he said, leaning against the counter so that he was facing her. "And then some genius drove his car straight into a lamppost, so…" Derek shrugged his shoulders, pulling his surgical cap off and running a hand through his hair. "I came back."

"There was no neuro on call?"

"Just a resident. And well…you should've seen it Mer. This guy..." Derek trailed off, but Meredith could tell by the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth that the surgery had been difficult. And a success.

"Needed you…" she finished softly, going back to absently double-checking the medicine dosages on her patient's chart.

"Apparently," agreed Derek with a hoarse laugh. Meredith shook her head, laughing slightly in response. Slowly, their eyes locked once more, and they stared at each other with matching smiles. "So," continued Derek, letting his elbow slide along the counter so that he leaned closer to Meredith. "Why exactly are you here?" Meredith raised a puzzled eyebrow, unsure of what he was getting at. "A nurse told me Dr. Stevens was on the schedule for tonight, only she never answered her page. I was forced to use one of Lawrence's interns instead." Derek shook his head ruefully, a grin playing across his face. "And honestly…they're just not as good."

"Derek," interrupted Meredith, her tone shocked, and close to scolding him.

"Seriously," he insisted, holding a hand up in protest. "You five are…probably the best interns I've worked with in a long time. Bailey's really good at what she does." Meredith nodded in agreement, failing to notice the change in his expression until it was too late. He'd already cocked his head to the side, the hint of a grin still playing at the corners of his mouth, as his eyes bored straight into her. His voice dipped low, and he spoke conspiratorially. "The real shame is…I find out now that you've been here all along."

His voice was too low, too close to a growl, and Meredith felt her heartbeat quicken instantaneously.

"Umm…I switched with Izzie," she stammered, stepping back slightly. "I, well…she…uh…she, we had a thing."

"A thing?"

"Yeah. You know…" Meredith felt her cheeks flush, and she looked down, fidgeting with her watchband. It always seemed to be too loose…or her wrists were too small. She wasn't sure. "A girl thing," she finished lamely, hoping desperately that Derek wouldn't press her for the real reason. Especially since he was the real reason.

"That was nice of you," said Derek softly, sounding surprisingly genuine. "I remember how much you used to tell me how you hated working nights…"

"Yeah," managed Meredith. She felt suddenly hoarse, as if she'd gone all night without a drink of water, despite the water bottle resting beside her on the counter. "Things change Derek." The words were quiet, yet they sliced easily through the space between them. Derek nodded sadly, not answering at first. The heavy exhaustion that had been plaguing Meredith since early evening had vanished as she talked to Derek, but in the sudden moment of awkward silence, the tiredness came rushing back. Meredith felt her knees quiver slightly, and she leaned heavily on the counter. Her breath was a sharp hiss as she fought off an abrupt wave of lightheadedness.

"Meredith? Mer?" Derek's voice flooded with concern as Meredith swayed on her feet, stumbling forward. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine…" she stammered, pressing a frustrated hand to her head, trying to will the room to stop spinning.

"Mer you're not fine. You're white," insisted Derek, taking in the sudden change in her complexion. Meredith took a shaky step away from him, and as she did, she swayed yet again. Before she could get in any further protest, Derek had taken her by the arm and was leading her to the chair behind the nurses' station. She sunk down gratefully into the seat, her head falling forward to rest against Derek's chest, as the room slowly stopped spinning. The fit of her head against his chest and the gentle pressure of his hand stroking her hair felt so familiar that it took Meredith a full moment to realize just how they were positioned. Derek was kneeling in front of her, and as she slowly straightened up, she saw that his eyes were wide with concern.

"I'm okay," she mumbled. Her voice was quiet and a little apologetic.

"You're okay?" he echoed questioningly. Meredith nodded her head and looked down, her gaze resting on their hands. Derek's hand lay on top of hers, their fingers linked loosely together with a casual, practiced intimacy that they weren't supposed to have anymore. That they hadn't had in weeks… And as she stared at their hands, Meredith realized she'd been wrong when she'd thought Derek looking at her was akin to him touching her. The sensations were worlds apart. Her whole self seemed to spiral outward from the point were their hands touched, as if the only part of her that was truly real…the only part of her that was grounded at all, was the little bit of her body that was touching his. Meredith gasped and withdrew her hand, clenching her fingers into a fist to ward off the sudden coldness of absence. "Meredith?" repeated Derek, still studying her face intently. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah…" She tucked a stray strand of hair back behind her ear. "I'm just tired Derek. I'm fine."

"Tired?"

"Yes Derek…tired." Meredith sighed and straightened up, stepping slightly away from him. "I'm an intern. It's practically my job to be tired."

"You should go get some sleep," he suggested gently. Meredith just laughed, a short bitter sound, and side-stepped him completely to grab the charts she'd set down. "Meredith, seriously," he insisted, following after her. "You have to at least lay down for a little bit."

"Can't. Not yet. I still have a patient to see."

"But you're tired," Derek continued. He reached out and extracted the chart from her hands.

"What are you doing?" snapped Meredith, glaring at Derek and the suddenly displaced chart. "Interns are supposed to be tired."

"But they're not supposed to sway."

Meredith folded her arms over her chest, deliberately ignoring her own desire to just sink back down into a sitting position again. She made her voice as cross as she could manage. "I'm not swaying."

"You were." Derek's voice left little room for argument, and it was followed instantly by the press of his hand against the small of her back. Meredith didn't quite know how to protest that. She didn't even know how to respond to it, as it had once more turned her body tingling and warm. And so she just let him lead her through the tangle of corridors, down towards the on call rooms at the far end of the floor. "I'll check on your patient. You just rest." Meredith simply nodded. It would take too much energy to argue with him. They stopped abruptly in front of the door to an empty on call room. "Give me your pager," said Derek, holding out his hand.

Meredith just looked at him incredulously. "What?"

"Your pager."

"Derek…it's my job to carry this pager."

Derek frowned down at his watch, checking the time. "It's nearly three am. You have to be up in what…just over two hours for rounds?" Meredith nodded glumly. "Tell me how many hours you've slept tonight."

She shrugged. "About an hour." That was actually stretching it a little. She'd laid down around one, only to be paged within thirty minutes by one of the nurses.

"Exactly." Derek's voice was firm, but his eyes were gentle. "I don't want you to make yourself sick Mer." When he extended his hand for the pager a second time, Meredith felt herself complying, and handing it over. As he fastened it onto the waistband of his scrubs, Meredith gave in a little to her exhaustion, and let her head rest against the doorframe.

"You don't have to do this Derek," she murmured, looking up at him through heavy eyelids. He just tilted his head to the side slightly, raising a single confused eyebrow. "Play intern," she elaborated, gesturing aimlessly with one hand. "You know…be nice to me." Her voice trailed off, ending in a dejected shrug.

Derek shook his head, smiling sadly. "I want to," he said quietly. They stared at each other for a moment, painfully aware of the space between them. Meredith nodded, still not lifting her head from where it rested against the doorframe. She hated the shiver that ran through her body, and tried to smile instead. Only it felt curiously broken and twisted…an echo or a ghost of a smile, and nothing more. "Besides…I make a good intern," he continued with a smile that mirrored her own. "I don't sway."

"You don't sway," echoed Meredith numbly.

"No. And neither will you in the morning." Derek leaned towards her, his arm reaching out and pushing open the door to the dark on call room. "Get some sleep Mer." His voice was gentle and too familiar, and it left her murmuring her thanks and stumbling across the floor, to sink down onto the bed.

Meredith's legs folded easily beneath her. The bed felt infinitely soft and warm, and she was so tired. It was an aching heavy exhaustion that covered her whole body, not neglecting a single limb. However, the sound of the door clicking shut was painfully loud, and the silence that followed was even worse. A month ago, before Addison, the bed would've been twice as warm and twice as comfortable. Derek would've curled up beside her, his lips winding a soft whisper of a trail down her neck as he pulled her close to her. His voice would have been a low sound in her ear, and she would have slept against his chest, their breathing growing slow and even together.

Now, Meredith's shoulders shook slightly, and she pulled the thin sheet up around her. She screwed her eyes shut, willing herself to get the sleep that her body seemed so desperately to need. But her head still felt too light, too faint, and so she draped a sleep-heavy arm over her eyes to try and steady herself. Her mind swam with picture perfect images of Derek's face. His voice was still an echo within the silence of the room, and the phantom touch of his hands on her skin lingered over the length of her body. Meredith moaned a mingled sigh of sheer exhaustion and frustration as she rolled over to face the wall.

For an hour or so, she had let herself forget why she'd been avoiding Derek Shepherd. Only now, alone in the dark, reality came rushing back. It was simply too painful. The closeness, the nearness…and then, the sudden harsh contrast of nothingness. Meredith felt her eyes burning with unspilled tears, but kept her eyelids screwed resolutely shut. She didn't need him anymore, she reminded herself fiercely. Yet his name was the one constant in her mind until Meredith finally fell into a fitful sleep.

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Okay...that's it for now. Meredith is sad and angsty and completely missing Derek. In short, she is the depressed little Mer of early last season. And Derek is, despite his own personal desires, married to his wife. There's not much to say, as this was mostly the introduction. Actually, it pretty much was the introduction. Anyway, chapter two should be up fairly soon seeing as my cold is still inflicting me with the desire to be a bum and just write. It might be up by tomorrow, but Saturday is much more likely. That's all folks! Please review!